


Next Year

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Allergies, Dancing, Food Poisoning, Interrupted Dates, Kissing, M/M, Mystrade Valentines Calendar 2018, TW: discussion of vomiting, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 19:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: “I’m telling you, we’re jinxed.”“Gregory, don’t be ridiculous.”“Well, what would you call it? We’ve not had a good Valentine’s Day yet.”“It’s merely coincidental that we’ve not had a Valentine’s Day that would be considered perfect.”“I’m sorry, what is it you say about ‘coincidence’?”“You have me there. Fine, the fates are against us. We should simply give up.”“No way. We’re going to show Cupid and have a perfect Valentine’s Day.”





	1. Valentine’s Day I: Roses

**Valentine’s Day I: Roses**

Greg stood on the stoop juggling grocery bags as he rang the bell. He felt like a prize idiot. The door opened and Greg smiled apologetically.

 

Mycroft looked awful. His eyes were red and swollen. Greg could see tears gathering in the corners of those blue eyes.

 

“Hey, happy Valentine’s Day. “ Greg offered. “Do you forgive me?”

 

“For what am I forgiving you?” Mycroft asked as he moved aside to let Greg inside.

 

“For sending you two dozen roses to which… “ Greg winced as Mycroft sneezed. “Bless you. You’re horrifically allergic.”

 

Mycroft sniffed. “How were you to know?”

 

“I know now, so I won’t be making that mistake next year. I brought dinner and a movie,” Greg held up the bags. “Since I caused our plans to be cancelled.”

 

Mycroft nodded in understanding, but instead of replying he turned aside with a soft gasp and sneezed again.

 

“Bless you, love.”

 

“Thank you and I forgive you.” Mycroft pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his nose. “Please don’t feel like you have to say that every time I sneeze.”

 

“I disagree. Every sneeze, every sniffle, every cough must acknowledged and blessed.” Greg kissed Mycroft’s beleaguered nose before heading down the hall to the kitchen.

 

Mycroft rolled his eyes and followed muttering, “This is going to be a very tedious evening.”


	2. Valentine’s Day II: Sherlock

**Valentine’s Day II: Sherlock**

 

You might as well answer it,” Mycroft said as Greg’s mobile began to ring for the fifth time. “He’s not going to stop.”

 

Greg sighed. “You’re right.” He picked up his mobile and turned away from the table. “This better be good, Sherlock. It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m on a date,” snarled Greg into the phone.

 

“I’m sure it is better than whatever vapid topic you and the blonde from administration have settled on.”

 

“It’s not Cecily and the topic isn’t vapid, whatever that means.”

 

“Boring!” Sherlock shouted.

 

Mycroft raised his eyebrows and looked put out.

 

“What do you want, Sherlock?” Greg hissed.

 

“I’ve cracked the Johnson case.” The consulting detective sounded very smug.

 

“Great. Call me at the Yard in the morning and we can discuss your theories then.”

 

“If it could have waited until tomorrow I’d have waited. Our perpetrator is planning to leave for Spain tonight.”

 

“Tonight?” Greg stood.

 

Mycroft sighed. He signaled the wait staff for the check. Greg looked at Mycroft, his face full of apology. Mycroft mouthed, “Go.” He shooed Greg from the table.

 

“Hang on,” Greg said to Sherlock. Moving over to Mycroft, he leaned down to kiss the man briefly. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

 

“Ugh! Must I listen to this?” Sherlock moaned.

 

“I’m confiscating your phone next year.” Mycroft murmured against Greg’s mouth.

 

“Deal.”

 

“Wait! Is that Mycroft? Why are you talking to Mycroft? What happened to the blonde?”

 

Greg rolled his eyes and Mycroft smothered a giggle. “There’s no blonde, Sherlock. Tell me where to meet you.” Greg snagged his coat and headed out of the restaurant.


	3. Valentine’s Day III: Daughters

**Valentine’s Day III: Daughters**

 

Mycroft carried in the laden tea tray and set it on the coffee table. Greg sat on the sofa looking distraught as he held his weeping daughter. Mycroft bit his lip. He took his seat on the other side of Emily and poured the tea.

 

“I’m sorry Ems,” Greg murmured as he stroked her back. “He’s a right bastard.”

 

Emily sniffled and slowly sat up. Mycroft offered her the tissue box and Emily took a few. She gave him a wan smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I’m ruining your Valentine’s Day.” She wiped her eyes.

 

“It’s fine. We didn’t have plans.” Greg stole a glance at Mycroft, who gave a slight nod.

 

He had cancelled their dinner reservations and tickets to the symphony while he was in the kitchen. Next year, Mycroft thought with a silent sigh.

 

“Who does that? Breaks up with you on Valentine’s Day? By text?” Emily had moved on to angry.

 

Mycroft handed her a cup of tea. “I could make him disappear.” His offer wasn’t entirely unselfish.

 

“Really?” She sounded interested.

 

“No, Mycroft. We aren’t making anyone disappear.” Greg gave his partner the ‘not good’ look, as he stood. “I’m going to order Chinese and we’ll watch a movie. Whatever you want.” He kissed the top of his daughter’s head.

 

As he walked out, Greg turned to give Mycroft another warning glare. Mycroft looked innocently back.

 

Emily turned to Mycroft as soon as her father left the room. “Could you have his car towed at least?”

 

Mycroft smirked. “With pleasure, Emily.”


	4. Valentine’s Day IV: Work

**Valentine’s Day IV: Work**

 

Mycroft waited patiently for Greg to finish his discussion with a member of the forensic team. Greg looked cold and tired. Sgt. Donovan noticed the tall man standing by the black sedan as she approached her boss. She whispered in the DI’s ear. Greg’s posture changed and he glanced back, seeing Mycroft for the first time. Dismissing his officers Greg made his way over to the cordon line.

 

“Yeah?” Greg really wasn’t sure why Mycroft was here. He half expected his things to be unloaded from the car boot by the driver.

 

“How is your evening?” Mycroft looked past Greg to the crime scene beyond.

 

“Ah well, you know. I’m out here in the cold with a dead body and most of the serious crimes division of the Yard. I was hoping for a more intimate evening with my partner… if I still have a partner.”

 

Mycroft looked pained. He met Greg’s eyes. “You still have a partner,” he murmured. Greg released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He reached out his hand and Mycroft’s hand caught it. Their fingers intertwined. “I was being selfish and…

 

“My…”

 

“Let me finish, please.” Mycroft interrupted gently. “My apologies for my previous harshness.” With his free hand he knocked on the window of the car. Greg watched the driver get out and go to the car boot. “I am privileged to serve our government. A government that would be an empty hull and utterly powerless if not for the hard work you and your colleagues do to enforce the our laws.” Greg looked back at Mycroft a little surprised. “I, of all people, should understand how vitally important and how unpredictable your job can be.”

 

“Thank you.” Greg gave Mycroft’s hand a light squeeze and a small smile was given in return. “I promise next year will be better.”

 

Mycroft shook his head. “Piecrust promise.”

 

The movement of Mycroft’s driver caught Greg’s attention. “My, what are you up to?” The driver had set up a folding table and was unloading boxes.

 

Mycroft followed Greg’s gaze. “You aren’t alone out here and every one of your officers deserve to know they are appreciated. I thought perhaps they would enjoy some refreshments.” Greg began to grin as the boxes were revealed to contain coffee and fairy cakes.

 

Mycroft let go of Greg’s hand as he called Sgt. Donovan over to ask her to convey the good news. As the members of the team made their way over to grab a coffee and a cake, the two men stood close together.

 

“Mycroft Holmes you amaze me.” Greg murmured.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”


	5. Valentine’s Day V: Prawns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussion of vomiting, but no graphic descriptions.

**Valentine’s Day V: Prawns**

 

Greg lay on the bed panting. He shivered as the sweat started to cool his fevered skin. Mycroft exited the en suite carrying a warm, wet flannel and sat on the edge of the bed next to Greg. Gently Mycroft wiped the sweat from Greg’s forehead.

 

“I’m sorry love,” Greg muttered.

 

“Hush, it’s not your fault.” Mycroft refolded the cloth and continued to clean Greg’s skin.

 

“I think it was the prawns from lunch.”

 

“I’ve told you about eating food that’s been sitting out.” Mycroft admonished without heat. “Can you sit up?” Greg sat up trembling. Mycroft finished cleansing Greg’s chest and back, then helped him into a clean T-shirt.

 

“I can’t believe I just vomited £100 of food and wine.”

 

“It was going in the toilet one way or another.” Mycroft observed practically, helping his ailing partner under the duvet.

 

Greg laughed weakly as he lay back down. “This isn’t how I wanted our Valentine’s Day to go.”

 

“I know.” Mycroft smoothed back Greg’s damp hair.

 

“I wanted your fingers in my arse but I wasn’t thinking of a suppository to stop me from puking.” Greg words were slurred.

 

Mycroft chuckled softly. He could see Greg was drifting off to sleep. He kissed his lover’s forehead. “Next year Valentine’s Day will be better, my dear.”


	6. Valentine’s Day VI: Next Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussion of vomiting, but no graphic descriptions.

**Valentine’s Day VI: Next Year**

 

“I think we did it,” Greg spoke quietly.

 

They were dancing, slowly swaying and circling the drawing room. The lights had been turned off and only flickering candles provided any illumination. Music, various love songs from different eras, was coming through the speakers. The coffee table was pushed back to give them room. Remnants of dessert and champagne sat on the table waiting to be cleared to the kitchen to be cleaned with the rest of the dinner dishes.

 

“Did what?” Mycroft’s cheek rested against Greg’s and his eyes were closed. He was focused on the feel of Greg’s arms and the smell of Greg’s shampoo.

 

“We managed to celebrate Valentine’s Day without a disaster.”

 

The next song started and the beat was bit more up-tempo. He and Mycroft slipped into an easy swing movement as Frank Sinatra began to croon. Greg was never gladder for the ballroom dance lessons his ex-wife roped him into in an attempt to revitalize their relationship. 

 

“I believe we did.” Mycroft agreed, smiling.

 

“No allergic reactions.” Greg glanced at the tulips sitting on the side table.

 

“No interruptions from work or Sherlock.” Mycroft observed.

 

“Or Sherlock.” Greg confirmed.

 

“No broken hearted daughters?” Mycroft asked tentatively.

 

“Nope. They’re all happy.” Greg grinned as Mycroft spun him around. “I checked.”

 

“No food poisoning.” Mycroft sounded relieved.

 

“Oh Christ.” Greg shuddered.

 

“I agree that was probably the worst.”

 

“Still can’t look at prawns.” Mycroft snickered at that. “Oh, glad you can laugh,” huffed Greg.

 

“You should be. I was the one cleaning up your sick.” Mycroft’s tone was light and Greg could tell he was being ribbed.

 

“Watch it, or I’ll send you roses.” Greg threatened playfully.

 

The music changed again. The song was slower and the two men pressed close to each other. They regarded one another intently. Greg tilted his head slightly, dropping his gaze to his lover’s mouth.

 

Mycroft closed his eyes and melted into the kiss being pressed to his lips. He tasted lemon tart and champagne on his lover’s breath.

 

Greg felt the familiar sensation of Mycroft’s long nose pressing into his cheek. Gentle fingers caressed his back. The kiss deepened, coaxed along by Mycroft’s clever tongue.

 

Their dance had slowed to a stop as they reveled in sensuality of the moment. Mycroft disengaged, smiling as Greg softly whined. “I love you dear. Nothing will ever change that.”

 

Greg searched Mycroft’s face and tried to reflect back all the love, acceptance and caring he saw there. “I love you too, My. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

 

FIN


End file.
